The 2010 harvest has been late but so far looks sensational. The later ripening has also had the added advantage of lower light angles and lots of great photograph opportunities. Enjoy a sampling of photos from Tablas Creek, taken between October 25th and November 5th, 2010

The end of September is a great time to walk the vineyard. Most varieties are ripe or nearly so, but most of the fruit is still on the vines. And you get a great chance to see where everything is. We're harvesting our last Grenache Blanc and Syrah this week, and our first Grenache Noir and Roussanne.
Mourvedre, Counoise, and Picpoul are still a few weeks off. But the vineyard looks great, and we're excited with 2009.

We had a break in the weather early this week, with morning fog and daytime highs in the mid-70s. The vineyard is poised for veraison, and I spent a few hours prowling around taking pictures mostly in our Grenache, Mourvedre and Vermentino blocks.

What a difference two weeks makes

I walked back past that spot yesterday, on an ultimately fruitless quest to take some good sunset pictures. I was stunned by how much more fall-like the vineyard felt after two weeks that included a few days of rain and several nights below freezing. The new view:

November is a month of dramatic transitions in the vineyard, as the grapevines go dormant for winter and the cover crop starts to sprout after our first significant rainfall. In two more weeks, I expect to see a faint carpet of green between the rows.

It's obvious that the rainfall is necessary for the next year's vigor of the grapevines. It's perhaps less obvious that the frosty weather is also important. Grapevines are deciduous plants, that evolved in a part of the world where warm to hot summers were broken by winters that regularly saw below-freezing temperatures. The frosts kill off any active growth, forcing the vines to conserve energy in their roots for the next year. In climates where winter freezes are rare, vines can expend valuable energy on pointless growth in fall and winter, and have less vigor for the following spring. So while we may lament the loss of the colors of autumn, the transition to the subtler browns and greens of winter is a natural and necessary part of the annual cycle.

Comments

I walked back past that spot yesterday, on an ultimately fruitless quest to take some good sunset pictures. I was stunned by how much more fall-like the vineyard felt after two weeks that included a few days of rain and several nights below freezing. The new view:

November is a month of dramatic transitions in the vineyard, as the grapevines go dormant for winter and the cover crop starts to sprout after our first significant rainfall. In two more weeks, I expect to see a faint carpet of green between the rows.

It's obvious that the rainfall is necessary for the next year's vigor of the grapevines. It's perhaps less obvious that the frosty weather is also important. Grapevines are deciduous plants, that evolved in a part of the world where warm to hot summers were broken by winters that regularly saw below-freezing temperatures. The frosts kill off any active growth, forcing the vines to conserve energy in their roots for the next year. In climates where winter freezes are rare, vines can expend valuable energy on pointless growth in fall and winter, and have less vigor for the following spring. So while we may lament the loss of the colors of autumn, the transition to the subtler browns and greens of winter is a natural and necessary part of the annual cycle.